


Childhood Memories

by orphan_account



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, background relationship of stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They can be holding each others hand right now because the unfortunate truth is that no one cares for either of them, so they care for themselves."</p><p>A oneshot that honestly came out of nowhere but wouldn't leave my head</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The warm sun, beating down on two little girls panting with smiles painted on their faces. It’s falling between the trees, creating patterns across the grass they collapse on. The light moves from the trees gently swaying, the two girls laughter fading slowly as they catch their breath. The sky’s coloured blue, and people with prams and children walk the parks pathways while white clouds pass over their heads. A light haired girl speaks up, smiling as her chest and ribs still heave with breathless wonder at the shapes the clouds create. Turning to look at the chocolate waves beside her and her friends eyes taking in the sky. An age gap of two years, nine and eleven, but Angie doesn’t believe for one second that they’re different in any way. 

“Beat you. Five cents Pegs, pay up” She leans up on her palms, looking down to Peggy with her hair mussed and fanned out on the grass. But her friend just sheepishly smiles, leaning up the same. Peggy’s dress that passes her knee is all smeared with dirt and grass stains, Angie’s newsboy cap and trousers looking just about the same with their smiling faces making the dirt look clean.

“How about I pay it in sweets?” Angie just looks at her, Peggy’s smile guilty and apologetic. 

“You already used it for that, didn’t ya?” Angie laughs and lightly pushes Peggy’s shoulder, her friend laughing back and falling back down to the earth. Angie falls back as well, not caring that her white tucked in shirt is probably now brown. 

“You know, I didn’t use it _all_ for sweets” Angie raises an eyebrow, laying on her side with her elbow tucked underneath her cheek as she looks to Peggy.

“Yeah?” 

“Yep. Here” 

Underneath the sunlight through the leaves Angie watches as Peggy reaches into one of her dress pockets, holding her hand tight around something as she turns her head and looks towards her. Angie sees her face has changed a bit, a little sadder than before. But Peggy just shrugs suddenly nervously and holds out her hand. 

“It’s one of those dumb friendship rings we always tease other girls about. It’s not much, but it was at the bottom of a cereal box and I realised you don’t have a ring so-”

Angie just stops her words as she reaches out and takes it, slipping it on her ring finger making Peggy frown and blush. 

“Isn’t that the wrong finger?” Angie just rolls her eyes and sits up, Peggy following again. 

“Duh English, of course it’s not. Now shut up cause I love it”

Peggy smiles and hugs her knees, looking over to Angie and watching as the sun hits the blonde parts of her hair and her blue eyes shine. She’s thumbing her suspenders, Angie then suddenly smiling bright and catching Peggy out of her daze. 

“Shoot! Pegs we gotta go!” 

And Angies already on her feet and tightening her cap on her head and reaching for Peggy’s hand. Peggy just blindly grabs it and is lead fast down the overhanging trees on the parks footpath, the sun now lowering as it nears the afternoon. She doesn’t even question it, most times Angie does this out of nowhere. Either leading Peggy to random places built just for the two of them or pulling her along as they sneak past bodies to get into carnivals. 

“Ang, were we going!?” 

Peggy watches from behind as she’s tugged along running, Angie’s curls falling from the cap and Peggy’s dress fluttering in the wind. She just looks behind her shoulder and grins. They pass the parks gates, cross the pedestrian walkway with cars beeping cause Angie didn’t stop, through an alleyway out the other side, down streets where an old man says hi and Angie waves quickly back. 

“We, English, are goin’ places!”

It brings a gleeful laugh to Peggy’s lips, Angie just weaving around adults as Autumn leaves fall around them and to Peggy time is slowing down with Angie in front of her, she can see every hair curl bounce, the light surrounding Angie like the carnival lights they would gawk at when they successfully sneaked in. 

The sudden copious amount of bodies around them halt Angie’s running. Peggy smacking into her back with an ‘oof’. They’re standing amongst people who are looking to the sky, every tall persons head looking up into the late evening blue. Peggy scrunches her eyebrows and wonders why they’ve stopped, tapping Angie’s shoulder as she looks to the same sky. 

“Why have we stopped?”

Angie looks to her like she asked her if pigs can fly. 

“What other reason Pegs? They’re startin’ the fireworks soon!” Peggy looks blankly to Angie’s over excited face and shrugs her shoulders. 

“What for?”

“You playin English? Or are you just that dumb?”

Peggy hits her shoulder back like Angie did under the trees leaves. It makes Angie smile and fake rub her shoulder like it hurt. 

“No! But it’s not New Years. Did I miss something?”

Angie rolls her eyes and grabs her hand again, pushing through bodies with adults looking down angrily but softening as two little girls happily run through. Angie makes it to a clearing of less bodies motioning for Peggy to go on her tippy toes. 

“You been in the states how long, and you forget Fourth of July?”

Peggy inclines her head as far as it can reach, watching as men set up rockets and colourful striped arrows. _Duh_ , how could Peggy forget? It’s Angie’s favourite day of the year, normally her friend would non stop talk about it for weeks before hand. 

Frowning Peggy sways back on her feet and only notices how they’re still holding hands, her ring still firmly on Angie’s finger. 

“Why didn’t you say something? You were heaps excited last year” Angie just shrugs, looking to the ground and playing with their fingers nervously.

“I dunno, well, okay I do know. But I don’t know how to tell you” 

Peggy frowns and shakes their hands for Angie to look up, small tears are making their home in Angie’s eyes. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Angie sucks in a breath as Peggy hears distantly the count down begin, men and women yelling numbers as Angie closes her eyes. 

 

_10!_

“Okay so you know how the foster home’s kinda getting packed? Well last night a man and a women came in with papers….”

 

_9!_

 

“..and they pointed to me, then Ms. Fry smiled that weird smile she does and signed the little line at the bottom Pegs. What does that mean?”

 

_8!_

 

The voices around Peggy are like they’re under water, Angie’s eyes now wet like she already knows the answer. She doesn’t want it to be true, because this is the only way Peggy and Angie are even friends, because they can escape abusive homes and parents that have too high of standards. They’re together because Angie runs out her window at night and Peggy is always ignored anyways and waiting at the bottom to catch Angie if she slips. They can be holding each others hand right now because the unfortunate truth is that no one cares for either of them, so they care for themselves. And Peggy doesn’t want it to be true, 

she doesn’t want it to be true because Peggy found out while reading her dad’s books that when your adopted you’re taken away. You’re taken away from everything you love and Peggy looks as if Angie’s already gone.

 

_7!_

 

“I don’t wanna go English” 

Angie’ crying now, the light of adults lighters as they flick cigarettes reflect in her tears. Peggy is too, but she wipes the back of her hand across her cheek and gets her sleeve to do the same to Angie, making her laugh. 

“How about we watch the fireworks instead? We can do this all tomorrow Ang. I just wanna have another Fourth of July like we alway do, is that okay?”

 

_6!_

 

Angie nods and smiles looking up, tightening her hold with her ring pressing hard into her finger. The people’s voices around them like chorus, shouting in muffled glee. Angie takes the front of her cap and flips it onto Peggy’s head, fitting it down and re-holding her hand, shaking her head for Peggy not to take it off. 

“Sounds swell Pegs.”

 

_5!_

 

They’re both looking up, the light of the stars on their cheeks and their tears all but stubbornly gone. 

“You gonna miss me?”

Peggy lets her lips part as she looks down. She doesn’t think she’s ever meant something more in her life than the next words. She feels the weight of Angie’s cap on her head. 

“Always”

 

_4!_

 

“We’re gonna see each other again, look out for me okay? I’ll be wearing my ring” Peggy nods and swallows, she lets the gravity of it all fall to her small shoulders. 

“Keep it on, because then I’ll know”

 

_3!_

 

Angie looks to Peggy, they’re eyes off the sky as they stare.

 

“Know what?”

 

_2!_

 

“That this was real”

 

_1!_

 

And the fireworks go off, whizzing past their ears with light colouring the sky. Explosion of fire as the sparks land on the two girls cheeks. Neither breaking gaze. 

 

\--------------

 

It’s Valentines day of 1946, the glow of streetlights and smell of young lovers in the form of hazy cigar smoke and late frost of winter. It’s nearing sundown, when couples kiss under the moonlight and hand out roses at fancy restaurants. When they meet lips in alleyways with smeared lipstick and combed hair being scratched forward. 

Peggy doesn’t care for it much, she walks with her purpose, walks with her head strong and high. She walks into and out of jobs, she walks into wars and into another life. She doesn’t need a holiday mass marketed to know her place and value, Peggy doesn’t really need Valentine’s day. She needs a familiar face, she needs companionship. 

And more often than not she finds it at the bottom of glasses and friendly bars, where men laugh at her tales and ask if she’s being serious or just telling the story of a lost lover. 

“Dead as a doornail, fella’s. You’ve been there too” It goes then a quiet solemn silence. They nurse their drinks and tap glasses because they _all_ have been there. The war had it’s fair share of targets, and Peggy finds the mutual respect she never finds with her colleagues between drunken ex-military men and women who stitched up their wounds. 

And one such nursing women frequents the bar as much as Peggy does, always in the corner speaking to the owner with her light brown hair and friendly smile. She always lingers in the back of Peggy’s mind, she’s seen her somewhere. A familiarity of something that makes Peggy blush because she shouldn’t think of strangers like that. She shouldn’t think of the women in this bar like they _knew_ each other. But it never erases the fact that she’s there, always lingering in the back of her mind. 

“You’re gonna burn holes in that girls head Carter” 

She’s brought out of her daze by one of the men to her left, a man she has become close to. With dark brown hair and kind eyes, Peggy befriended him on one of her bad nights, where he slid over from where he was on the bar and ordered two drinks. He did it with one arm though, smiling crookedly as Peggy ignored his every flaw of post war injuries, she was too far gone at the time anyways. 

James Buchanan Barnes, yet he charmingly insisted on ‘Bucky’.

“Do you know who she is? I’ve seen her around quite a lot” Peggy’s voice is piqued with interest, still staring as if she’s looking at a puzzle with missing pieces. Buckey raises his eyebrows, following her gaze and chuckling. 

“You interested?” 

Peggy raises her eyebrows and tries to hide the blush, but Bucky knows her too well. Getting up he throws his drink back while Peggy answers him. 

“Most certainly not. James I swear if you move one inch I’ll-”

“What Carter? Sick all 120 pounds of Steve on me? Come on! You need a little something in your life. You can’t live it hanging out with me in stingy bars.”

Peggy sighs, watching as his charming swagger is flicked on in a beat as he swipes his hand through his hair. She smirks though as she see’s that ‘120 pounds’ make his way through larger men, holding drinks and smiling. Steve though laughs as Bucky holds a glass up to see his reflection as Peggy’s wingman, placing the glasses down and sitting across. 

“You got a date I don’t know about?”

Bucky clamps a hand across his shoulder and crouches low, the drinks definitely gone to his head as he talks into Steve’s ear like he’s speaking over a radio receiver. Static effects and all. “Steve this is your modern day hero speaking and he’s about to get his friend laid, over” 

Peggy just rolls his eyes as Steve laughs, looking across the table as Peggy takes a sip of her drink and flips him off all English style. Bucky chuckles as he makes his way over to the women Peggy still can’t place, and from what she can tell he asks to sit as he leans and speaks some most likely grade a bullshit. 

“Bucky being an ass again?” Steve asks this looking fondly across the room, and Peggy laughs inwardly and ironically at how good Steve is at wearing his emotions on his sleeve. 

“As per usual”

The next few moments carry on with Peggy watching Bucky introduce her, seeing the ex-military nurse look up as Bucky points to their table. Peggy was mid sip of her drink when she looks up, and almost comically spits in shock all over Steve’s thin body soaking his shirt. 

“Uhh, Pegs you alright?” Never mind the soaking beer all over him, Steve just asks worriedly at her expression. Tears immediate in her eyes, red lips parted like the night of the fireworks. The weight of a paperboys hat resting on her head, the feel of a ringed hand in her palm. Peggy remembers this because her eyes are still so blue, _Angie’s_ eyes are still so blue. 

And the women in question, the one who smiled dimples and wore boys clothes because it made Ms. Fry mad remembers her lips. Remembers the five cents in sweets she was promised, Angie remembers an English accent. She feels the weight of a childhood toy on her ring finger that still sits comfortably there, she hears the fireworks burning her cheeks. _Peggy._

“Steve I-I-”

“Peggy?” He looks on, his hand out ready because she looks as if she’s going to faint, a look that screams she lost something. 

“I have to go”

And Peggy’s out into the crisp Valentine air before Steve can utter a ‘wait’. He looks across to Bucky, his shoulders shrugging as he looks to the women across from him. Her face a picture of realisation and shock. And Steve can see from here, before she jumps up in a haste to follow, how in her lap she twists her fingers. Two around the other as she twirls a cartoon ring, like if she twirls it hard enough…….well Steve wouldn’t know what she’s wishing for to happen. 

But as she runs after her, shouting Peggy’s name, Steve guesses it’s something about lost time and past mistakes. Judging from how desperate her voice sounds. 

\------------------

Peggy breathes in the air like its the only thing keeping her upright, like her legs aren't functioning or her brain isn’t thinking. Deep gulps of the air mixed with the smell of New York at night as her hand palms her stomach to hold the quivering of her body.

“Oh god, oh god oh god” She looks to the sky and closes her eyes, trying not to imagine fireworks or stars. She hears the door of the bar open with a groan behind her and Peggy can’t decide if she wants to turn around or not, so she just speaks, trying to keep the waver from her voice. 

“Please don’t tell me it’s you. Angie, please” She hears her reply behind her, and even if it’s been 17 years Peggy would know her voice anywhere. She can hear the little nervous quiver to it. 

“And what if it is?”

She sucks in a breath, Peggy still holding her stomach. 

“It can’t, Angie it _can’t_ ” 

She feels her walk up behind her, and tenses as a soft hand falls to her shoulder. She can’t be here, Angie can’t be here because she moved countries in the end and the chances of her meeting her at a bar in a city are 1 to 1000000 and Peggy had her hopes up at eleven that they would grow old and be together always. She had her hopes up and it’s taken years for her to tear them down, so for it to sprout back up so easily is making Peggy scared. So unbelievably scared because after convincing her self Angie was real she had to convince herself she wasn’t, and it took her 17 years plus a paper boys cap that hangs on her bedroom lamp. 

“Why not? Why not English?”

Peggy’s still not facing her but the words just bring her hand down from her stomach as she lets out a sob. 

“Oh god it’s you. Angie it’s you”

The hand on her shoulder squeezes, turning her body slightly as she hears Angie’s voice.

“Turn around Pegs, let me see your dumb face” And Peggy laughs as she turns, meeting her eyes that still shine like fireworks or light between trees leaves. She can’t move, all she can do is hold on to a little more hope that this is real. 

But then Angie smiles like she did nearly two decades ago and Peggy’s eleven again with a crush on a paper girls grin. And her body’s taken in a crushing hug as Angie wraps her arms around her neck, whispering to her ear and Peggy’s arms just naturally curls around her waist. 

“Yeah, it’s me Pegs. Remember me?”

Peggy just burrows her head into Angie’s neck, she can hear a countdown begin in her head. 

“How could I forget?”

They’re still close, Angie whispering still as neither find the strength to let go. Whispering like she did when the carnival ferris wheel reached the top, whispering as they pointed out constellations so high up. Peggy always wondered why Angie whispered up there, so she asked one day, up in the clouds. Angie said it was on the grounds of,

_“To not break it”_

_“What?”_

_“I dunno, just don’t wanna break it”_

Peggy found out later it was the silence, Angie didn’t want to break the silence and she’s doing it now as she leans back and talks quietly.

“You still owe me five cents”

Peggy laughs, watering and messy as she wipes under her eyes and smiles. It’s real. It’s real. It’s real. 

“I was under the impression the ring was enough” 

Angie giggles and shrugs, looking down to her fingers doing what they’ve been doing for the past 17 years. 

“Yeah, English. More than enough.” 

“You kept it?”

And it’s funny to Peggy that Angie looks up to her like she just asked if pigs can fly like all those years ago. Scrunching her nose and scoffing.

“‘Course! This thing is a man repellent let me tell ya” 

Shaking her head and laughing Peggy just takes her hand and twirls the ring for her, it’s changed to a weird greeny colour also staining Angie’s skin the same. The cheap metal of the ring withering away but Angie keeping it there like it’s glued.

“You keep my cap?”

“Always. It’s hanging on my lamp” Angie smiles at that, it’s so English of her English. 

“What about the kisses? You keep em?”

That takes Peggy by surprise, her eyes widening and her voice stammering.

“The what?”

But Angie’s already leaning in close and taking Peggy’s cheeks lightly in her hands, smoothing the skin as their lips fall close.

“Cause I’ve got like a million saved up for you Pegs”

Peggy snorts and rolls her eyes, it’s so Angie of her Angie.

“That was terrible” 

But Peggy’s still smiling as Angie shrugs and wraps her arms around Peggy’s neck.

“You love me though”

_(It’s real. It’s real. It’s real) ___

Peggy can hear the fireworks go off. 

“Always" 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remembered this fic and how much I missed little smol Angie in a newsboy cap. So I decided to write a little 'before' kinda thing. Enjoy!.

**_1930-_ **

**~**

“Hey Martinelli!”

_Don’t turn around, don’t turn around. Remember what Miss Fry say? Ignore them and clench your fists, don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. You had stitches in for weeks Ang! Boys ain’t need split lips, they need someone to teach ‘em a lesson._

Angie keeps walking, pulling the front of her cap lower down, and shoving her fists into her pockets. The boy and his two friends laugh and knock elbows against each other. The blonde haired boy at the front, tall and lanky with awkward teeth, snickering and cupping his hands around his mouth to shout. “Aw! Is little Martinelli scared!?”

She scowls, tightening her fists into a clench as she continues to walk and tighten her jaw. Girls or boys shouldn’t be bullied at nine years old, but low and behold, Angie is walking faster as her feet land against the concrete, small splashes of water hitting her ankles. She hears behind her the boy and his accomplices jog after her, voices nearing as he plants his hand on her shoulder to turn her around harshly. “Hey! I’m talkin’ to ya!”

Angie whirls around and slaps his hand, the boy widening his eyes. “Back off Johnny, go home to your drunk Ma and gross Dad” But even with her glare, scrunched up face and harsh words, it all just garners her a surprised laugh and teasing. “Woah! Little Italy got a bite to her!” His friends laugh around her, a girl with dark red hair and another boy with brown curls swept to the side. The girl speaks up, sneering and folding her arms.

“I heard Italians got big families, probably makes Angie’s Ma a whore, right Johnny?” Angie’s hands shake at her side, her eyes wettening against her own accord as the blonde one, Johnny, smirks and pushes her in the chest, her small body moving backwards from the act.

“Yeah, probably why she dresses like this. Trousers are for boys Martinelli! You a boy?” They all laugh as the red head suddenly cackles, stalking forward and pushing Angie again as she pulls at her shirt, untucking it from her pants. Angie looking down and her knuckles almost white from restraint, her eyes wet with frustration.

“Jeez you’re a grade A weirdo Martinelli. Your Ma would be so disappointed seein’ ya like this”

Angie’s eyes flicker to the curly haired boy, who smirks menacingly. “Yeah, you’re a train wreck. Who’s gonna like you? You’re nothin’”

Angie’s eyes flicker to the girls. Vicious schoolyard eyes, horrible children with horrible parents. “ _You,_ Martinelli,” She pokes Angie’s chest, each jab punctuated by her words as Angie’s feet trip and fumble with each finger. “Ain’t. Got. No one”.

_“Miss Martinelli. First, no. I do not know why you were put up for adoption. Second, your mother and father most likely love you dearly, third-”_

_“Then why’d they leave me?”_

_“Sorry?”_

_“If they loved me... why’d they leave me?”_

_“I’m afraid child, I have the faintest idea”_

With that, the poor red haired dame ain’t seen Angie’s fist come flying, and Angie feels how her knuckles will need stitches and how the girls nose breaks under her fist, and she realises then how it’s girls who apparently, in her case, need the split lips. Boys still need a lesson. Miss Fry is still harsh and unapologetic to children. It’s starting to rain when she feels the girl recover and pull her hair.

The boys laugh. Angie’s hat falls to the ground. She’s pushed. It’s wet when her cheek makes contact with the concrete, her hands are grazed, she feels feet crush her lungs and stomach as each blow from feral kids hits her skin. As each blow from these kids she did absolutely nothing to hit her small frame. The world is cruel, and Angie learns that early. Learns how it feels to have the wind knocked out of you and called names. Realises how the earth tastes when you’re cheek down to it.  

And Angie realises how, at nine years old, she is very much indeed, in the plainest sense: _alone._  

~

**  
  
**

That changes when Angie hears it. It’s kinda cliche, but also kinda heroic and annoyingly charming.

“Hey! Pick on someone your own size!” It’s a girls voice, heavily accented as Angie hears their footsteps near from behind her curled in body. The redhead still clutching her nose and the boys frowning as they scoff and folds their arms.

“Oh yeah? What’s it to you?” She hears the girl stop behind her, watching as the boys fidget and the girl widen her eyes. Angie tries to sit up, gasping as her elbows wobble and her stomach convulses. So she just leans onto her forearm, head bowed and body bloodied. Listening and seeing how, with one sentence, the kids almost shit their pants from the mystery girl behind her.

“What’s it to me? Well Mary,” English addresses redhead with an air of what Angie can gather, over the top snootiness, “I don’t think my _father,_ principle of your school, would take too kindly you hurting my friend”

_Phsst, friend? Who she think she is?_

But the words have Mary, ironically named, eyes widening and stuttering, hand still to her nose. “You wouldn’t, would ya? You’re bluffin’” But English just scoffs and walks around Angie’s body, looking briefly down in worry. Making Angie have vertigo cause no one’s ever looked at her like that. No one’s ever looked at her like they care.

And Angie watches how English turns and leans in, voice pretty low for a girl who looks no older than eleven. “Try me”

It makes her nod fervently and profusely apologise, turning around and beelining down the street. Leaving Johnny and curly haired with eyebrows raised. She smirks and puts her hands to her hips, chin raised with; “Well?”

“Uh..” Curly swallows and stammers.

“Oh come on Dug, she’s a girl. Ain’t like she can do anythi-”

And jeez, poor Johnny. He doesn’t have enough time to react before he’s on his knees. English’s foot kicking him right in his crotch, squeaking out a sorry before ‘Dug’ picks him up by the elbow, rushing down the street with “Damn, that gal took you down” and “Oh shut up Dug, she took me by surprise” and another “Psst, ain’t look like it. You got beat by a girl”

With still mysterious English nodding proudly, yelling after them with her hand cupped against her mouth. “And don’t come back here!”

Angie looks up to the girl, long chestnut curls waving as she turns, her eyebrows drawn in as she hurries to Angie’s side. Angie smirking and coughing, totally side swept at how pretty the girls eyes are and how nice her skin is. “Guess my right hook ain’t enough?”

She laughs, gently picking up Angie by her arm and looping it over her shoulder to support her. Giggling as Angie blushes. “You know, you might have to teach me that one day. I usually just go for weak spots, not solid punches” Angie smiles, grimaces at how it pulls at her cheek and answers.

“English, from what I’ve learnt, knock outs are the way to go” English smiles, looking down then back up into Angie’s eyes. “I’ll remember that”

Now, Angie’s never been good with eye contact, never has. Miss Fry always yelling at her to look up when she’s talking, and to ‘Look in my eyes when I’m speaking!’ but now, looking into English’s with silky hair and a beautiful laugh? Angie’s finding it this whole lot easier. But she opts to grin and hold her stomach tighter. Briefly untangling herself to pick up her hat and refit it on her head with finality.

“Also, I totally had that under control. Those guys got nothin’ on me” That just gets her an eyebrow raising, English looking her up and down. “Not from where I’m standing unfortunately”

“Hey! I had her! Just another punch to blondey and all’s done is done. Curly is too chicken shit to do anythin’”

She gasps at Angie’s vulgar language and slowly smiles, the both of them still hobbling the streets. “You have an interesting vocabulary” Angie scoffs and slows down, leaning on a nearby wall as her body gives in. “Oh yeah?”

English looks worriedly on, but keeps talking “Mhm. Quite. I would be grounded in two seconds flat if I uttered those words” Angie lets her body slide down the wall, groaning as her muscles and bones protest. English frowning and sitting next to her.“You know, you should rest. I know the best diner near here”

Angie looks to the girl next to her weirdly, totally put off and confused at her genuine caring nature. “Why you care English? I’m fine. I can get by on my own”

“Really?,” Angie nods, a sound of ‘hmh!’ as English just pokes her in the side as Angie gasps and flinches. “Hey!” The other girl smiles smugly and leans back, folding her arms with a look of ‘I told you so’

Angie just grumbles and holds her stomach tighter. “Whatever, so you hit me in a sore spot? I can still walk” English shrugs and gestures to the pathway, leaning back arms folded. “Fine. Show me” Angie frowns and scoffs, leaning back on the wall for support and using her palms on the surface to hoist herself up, but all she gets is searing pain up her side and her body heavily falling to the ground again.

Angie frowns and points to the other girl. “This ain’t over”

She smiles. “Oh just because I’m right and you’re no-”

“You gonna lay off English?” The other girl looks down with a look of challenge.

“And if I don’t?” Angie leans in, her small frame very _not_ intimidating as she scowls.

“You’ll be looking like Mary, that’s what English”

She rolls her eyes and deadpan says, “Oh I’m terrified”

“As ya should be”

English scoffs and with an air of richness, raises her chin. “You’re the one still alive because I saved you”

That must be the tipping point, cause Angie explodes.

“First off miss _priss_. _No one_ saves me. _I_ save me. And second? I _ain’t_ gonna repeat myself, I can get by on my own”

The other girl stands up abruptly with a set jaw and pulls Angie up by her elbow, protests and grimaces as the girl just drags Angie down the street. “Hey what gives? Get ya rich ass hands off me English!” Their feet are quick on the pavement, Angie squirming in the older girls arms as she grits out.  “If ya gonna kidnap me girly, can I at least know the name of my weirdo saviour slash kidnapper?”

She stops as Angie nearly runs into her, tapping her foot, eyes narrowing as if in decision.

“Margaret Carter. And don’t laugh” Angie holds her smile in at her stare, she shouldn’t, _but come on, Margaret? That’s class A material!_ So her cheeks puff out at her holding in laughs and at _Margaret’s_ sigh, Angie loses it.

“M-Margaret!? Oh my god English that’s-”

“A beautiful name mind you”

“Oh come on, you’re kiddin’ yourself. You hate it”

She rolls her eyes and folds her arms, gritting her teeth and sighing. “Alright yes. I loathe it” Angie frowns at the unfamiliar word. “Loathes?” Margaret’s eyes soften and she explains. “It’s an intense dislike or disgust for something.” Angie nods with a frown and an ‘“Ohhh. Cool”

They keep walking for a beat until English relents and sighs. “And you?”

Angie frowns and looks up confusedly. “What?”

Margaret just rolls her eyes and gestures. “Name?”

Angie brightens with a smile as she sticks her hand out, grubby and dirty and bloodstained., Margaret takes it with a grimace. “Angela Martinelli at your service! But I prefer Angie, less letters to spell ya know?”

The conversation ends there, with Angie in parts sometimes giggling and muttering “Margaret” as they walk. Angie’s seriously lost in this part of town but for some reason keeps following the English girl, her injuries a pain but she just grits her teeth and keeps moving. And after some time, Angie brightens and bumps the other girl's shoulder with hers, Margaret looking down queerly.

“Peggy!”

“What? What’s a ‘Peggy?”

“Duh!” Angie rolls her eyes and smiles bright. “That’s your new name English! It’s short for Margaret! Whaddya think?”

 _Peggy_ smiles, looking to the ground they walk and turns her gaze to the girl next to her. Positively loving the name. “Sounds perfect”

 _Yeah_ , Angie thinks with a dazed expression, _this could be somethin’_

And at nine years old, Angie ain’t alone ever again.

And Peggy, at eleven, finds a reason to love fiery Italians who don’t yet know how important they are.

 ****~

**Author's Note:**

> This is a oneshot kinda thing. SO by all means anyone can continue off this as they please. 
> 
> (this was just excuse to write tiny Angie in a news boy cap i mean come on how cute)


End file.
